


The Raven Suntree

by MorganEilish



Series: Epilogues [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Dealing With Loss, F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 17:05:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13194648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganEilish/pseuds/MorganEilish
Summary: It's not easy outliving everyone you've met. Keyleth does the best she can.





	The Raven Suntree

Her second Suntree stood at the edge of the Zephra cliffs, overlooking the rift. She’d used a little bit of her magic to help it establish roots quickly and grow enough that it wouldn’t blow away. She’d debated putting it in the centre of her village and building a garden around it, but it didn’t seem as fitting. 

The winds twisted and gnarled its branches and in the spring and summer, the village was surrounded by swirling clouds of pink blossoms. Children climbed in its branches and she taught them how to turn into squirrels and rabbits and kittens at its base.

She integrated Vax’s raven feather into the trunk and turned it into a shrine to his goddess. She filled a couple vials with her blood and hung them from its branches, and members of her village began tying ribbons and offerings to it every time someone passed away. She never was one for organized religions, but death was a part of nature and it seemed fitting. Plus she needed somewhere she could go to talk to Vax when she needed him.

Late at night, when she couldn’t sleep, when her thoughts turned to Vax, she’d climb up into its boughs and rest in the branches. The sturdy limbs and soothing voice lulling her into peaceful dreams. It happened a lot, early on, and then lesser as the years passed. Eventually she only returned to sleep in its branches whenever news reached her that a member of Vox Machina passed.

She was old now. Her team long gone, but never forgotten. Whitestone still had its yearly festivals. The clock tower stood proudly and chimed out their accomplishments as well as those of Vex’s and Percy’s descendants. A now worn statue of Trinket stood at its base, adorned with ribbons, flowers, and feathers during the events.

It was difficult for her to go every year, not only because she had her people to lead, but also because it was never the same after everyone left. She watched each generation of Vex and Percy’s descendants grow up, make families of their own, and eventually die. Whitestone was still in their family, though the castle had been heavily renovated and modernized over the last thousand years, but the de Rolo name was lost and the stories about Vox Machina were little more than legends.

At first she tried correcting the false stories told about her and her party, but eventually she let the legends pass. She knew the truth, and that was all that mattered.

She wept heavily when the last de Rolo died, remembering a conversation she’d had with Percy about how not everyone could claim a lineage in a name. She remembered him jealously responding that not everyone had a lineage in a lifetime. There were many days she wished she didn’t. That day was one of them.

She was too old to climb the suntree now, but she could still beast shape. On nights when she needed its comforting branches, she’d fly up as a giant eagle and druidcraft a hammock out of vines.

In her final weeks she started spending more nights out in her Suntree, sensing that her time was almost up. She was relieved more than anything. She’d live a long and happy life. Her people were flourishing. Whitestone was a bustling city. She’d begun the process of selecting a successor to become the Voice of the Tempest after she passed.

Before slipping into her Suntree for her final rest, she visited Whitestone one more time to say goodbye to her old friend, the original Suntree. Then she went to Vasselhiem to give the Spire back to Melora as she’d promised she’d do centuries ago.

She returned to Zephra to watch the sun set over the cliff’s edge. Her raven didn’t visit her that day. But when she turned towards her tree, she saw Vax waiting for her at its base, a bright light coming from the bark behind him. With strength and energy she hadn’t felt in years, she ran into his arms. He folded his wings around them both and led her into the light whispering, “Forever and ever and always.”

The next morning, one of the windriders found the Mantle of the Tempest folded at the base of the tree and her people knew it was time the Tempest found a new voice.

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on [tumblr](http://morganeilish.tumblr.com/) to flail about how much we love these idiots.


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